This Odd Little Life of Mine
by DaemonFire
Summary: "I don't really know where I am. The last thing I remember is a soft 'Hey, girly' behind me and a sharp pain in my head before waking up here. I swear this place could have come right out of a horror film. There was a noise outside, but I've seen enough movies to know going towards it is never a good idea. But what other choice do I have, huh? I can't just wait here." *Spoilers!*


I had no idea where I was. I had woken up in a dingy little room with mold-encrusted walls and broken furniture. The last thing I remembered was walking into my house and hearing "Hey, girly" before a headache split my skull and I blacked out. Now it looked like I was in some kind of horror movie.

A shiver ran down my spine, inspiring goose bumps to decorate my arms. I rubbed them slowly to warm up and stood from where I was sitting on the dusty floor.

"Well, might as well try and find a way out," I murmured to myself, making my way over a splintered chair to the door. I cautiously took the handle and turned it, eyes narrowing at the creepy-ass squeal it made.

I poked my head out and looked down the dark hallway. There was no one there, thank God, but there were at least six other doors along either side. "What is this, some kind of hotel?" I wondered aloud. I mentally checked my courage and stepped out onto a creaky floorboard. Wind whistled through a broken window at the end of the hall, accompanied by a cold shaft of moonlight.

"Yup, it's official. I already hate this place."

My heart skipped a beat as I heard a sound to my left, like a door slamming shut. "What was that?" I squeaked. I'd seen enough horror movies to know that going towards a mysterious sound in a place like this never is a good idea. But what could I do? Wait around until…what? Someone found me? I didn't even know if anyone was _looking _for me. "Shit…" I started down towards the left, towards the sound. "I am so going to die for this."

I continued down the hall for a while, nervously looking around and flinching at every small noise. Finally, I came to a door slightly ajar. "Hold on, if I heard a door slamming earlier…?" Why is the door slightly open? I knew I shouldn't go in; it's exactly what a dumb blonde would do in the horror movie, probably calling out her boyfriend's name. I laughed gently at my ridiculousness. _Ghosts aren't real, Ren, you're fine._ I took a deep breath in before I pushed the door open gently, stepping inside.

Cold metal was pressed against the back of my head and a rough man's voice said, "Hey sweetheart, don't move or I blow your brains out."

Terror froze me solid and forced me to obey his words. _What the hell. What the hell?_

The voice spoke again, pressing the gun harder into my head to emphasize the words. "You think it's funny locking a door on a guy?"

I couldn't help my response. Maybe it was a result of the adrenaline that had started coursing through my veins but I suddenly felt only one thing: anger. "What, was the baby boy scared? I'm sorry."

I heard him growl and suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of my head. I saw colored spots in front of my eyes and thought faintly _That probably wasn't the best idea_...

"So where's the rest of them, huh? Did you call them already?"

"'Rest of them', what are you talking abo—" A second blow to my head choked off the rest of the word and I felt my knees hit the floor as my consciousness started to slowly slip away from me.

His voice sounded far away now but no less angry. "Don't screw around with me, demon bitch. I know you wouldn't come here alone so _where are they_?"

It took more than a little effort to get my voice out clearly. "I really don't know what you're talking about." Finally, the blackness swallowed me whole and I passed out.

I woke to an alarming pain in my head and a whole lot of confusion. _What the hell is going on? Where am I?_ I finally worked up the energy to open my eyes and flinched as bright light assaulted my already pounding skull.

The rough voice from somewhere behind me brought back everything that had happened: the house, the gun. The accusations. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty's awake. I thought demons were tougher than that, but I guess I've been overestimating you."

I tried to shift around into a more comfortable position only to realize that my arms were tied behind me, there was a rope around my waist tethering me to something, and my ankles were stuck together with yet more rope. I laughed bitterly. _Trust me to get into a situation like this. Of course I go into to the one creepy house that has a crazy guy in it_.

He walked over to crouch in front of me, the tone of his voice obviously threatening. "Excuse me, sweetie, but I don't think there should be any laughing but mine."

I looked up at him, a sigh making it's way out of my lips as all I saw was a bleary blob of color. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about. Why did you tie me up?"

He was silent for a moment, processing. "You serious? I leave you untied and you kill me on the spot. You really think I'm gonna let that happen?"

"What are you talking about? I wouldn't kill you!"

"You're a demon, it's what you do."

My eyes were finally starting to clear up as my anger flared again. "I don't know what I did to make you call me a demon, but thinking I'm a killer when you only just met me is kind of a dick move, don'cha think?"

I heard a light chuckle from behind and the angry man in front of me looked over my shoulder to hiss, "Shut up, Sam."

I blinked once more and finally saw the man in front of me for who he was. I couldn't believe it. There is no way this man can be here, there is no way the man crouching in front of me with the scary look on his face was…

"Dean…"

That got the guy's attention again and he looked back at me with piercing green eyes. His smile sent a wave of fear through my muscles. "Well well well, looks like we're a little infamous in the demon world."

I didn't understand. This was definitely Dean Winchester from Supernatural; his voice was gruff, his face was cold, and the gun hanging loosely in his hand was definitely the real deal. Plus, he had looked over my shoulder and said shut up to someone named Sam. _Holy shit…_ "Sam?" I called quietly.

I heard the light sound of footsteps coming towards me and lost my breath when I saw the youngest brother. His face was wary and more than a little bit angry.

Despair started to wriggle it's way into my heart as I thought _I'm dead. I'm so dead. The fictional characters Sam and Dean Winchester are going to kill me. How can they be here? Or maybe how can I be here? Is this their world or mine? Are they different things? Oh, get a grip, Ren, what does it matter? Dean's not exactly fond of you right now, and you've seen what he's done to demons! Please, Lord, don't let him kill me!_

Sam's soft voice broke through my fear-hazed thoughts. "Seriously man, I really don't think she knows what we're talking about. Don't you see how scared she is?" It was clear they had been talking for a while as I had been thinking about my imminent death. They were standing in the corner, speaking quietly.

Dean, of course, was having none of it. "Don't let it fool you, Sam. It's all an act."

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so Dean. Demons are normally open about what they are by this point."

"Well, this one's obviously different."

"Dean—"

I interrupted him before Dean could work himself up enough to shoot me without a chance to defend myself. "Damn it, I'm not a demon, Dean! I can understand you being so wary, especially in your situation, but I'm really not going to hurt you!"

He turned slowly to give me a look that made me swallow more words and growled slowly, "You're good, I'll give you that. But there's no way in hell I'm letting you leave. Not alive, at least." He came closer and raised the gun, centering it on my forehead.

I felt my eyes burn and the wet tracks of tears that warmed my cold cheeks. I was really going to die in this wacked-out world I was thrust into. _What did I do to deserve this?_ I cried in my head.

Sam suddenly jumped forward, stepping between his brother and me. "Dean, stop! This isn't right, she's not a demon!"

His gaze shifted up to glare at Sam, who fidgeted subtly but didn't move. "Sam, move. I'm not going to discuss this."

"Dean, have you ever seen a demon act like her? Really? She's obviously not going to hurt us. I mean, look at her." Sam put his hand over the front of the gun and kept it there as he stepped aside to let Dean look at me. I flinched and tried to melt into what I now felt was a wooden support at my back, my breaths hitching spasmodically. I saw doubt slowly replace the anger in Dean's eyes and he swore quietly, lowering the gun.

Sam stood looking at him for a moment before walking over to me and crouching in front of me. I curled my legs up closer to my body, my animalistic need to survive overpowering the knowledge that the man in front of me was the one who had saved me.

He looked at me with gentle, sympathetic eyes. His voice fit perfectly with his eyes; it was careful, knowing that I was terrified and that him and his brother were the cause of it. "Hey, shh. I'm going to untie you now, is that okay?" I hesitated but eventually nodded. He slowly reached down and undid the knot tying my ankles together before walking behind me and undoing the rope around my waist and wrists.

I immediately jumped up and to Sam, wrapping my arms around his neck and trying to slow my out-of-control tears. I felt him tense up and heard Dean cry out a "Sam!" as warning, but then there was a warm arm around me. "Dean, it's fine." A hand stroked my hair soothingly. "Shh, you're safe now. I'm sorry for putting you through that." I could practically feel Dean's suspicious eyes on my back, but I didn't care. I was too scared and right now Sam's arms were the safest place to be.

I don't really know how long we stayed like that, but it was me who eventually pulled away from Sam, rubbing my red eyes and giving him a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry about that. I probably got your shirt all gross."

He stared at me for a moment before barking out a laugh. "We tie you up, Dean probably gave you a concussion and almost shot you, yet you're apologizing for crying on my shirt?"

I blinked at him, confused. "Um…yeah, I guess."

"Unbelievable," Dean muttered incredulously. I spun around and, at finding him right behind me, squeaked and ducked behind Sam. Dean blinked and his brow furrowed before he looked at the ground, rubbing his head. "Hey, I uh I'm sorry about, you know, thinking you were a demon and um stuff."

"By 'stuff' you mean knocking me over the head and almost shooting me? That 'stuff'?" I hissed.

To his credit, Dean did manage to look apologetic. "Ah, yeah, that stuff…"

"Piss off, Dean." My temper had been getting out of hand lately; normally I was a very even-tempered girl, but I guess the events of the past couple hours was getting to me. Getting hit in the head, tied up and nearly killed can really put strain on a girl.

Of course, that was before even factoring in that I was just threatened by Dean Winchester and comforted by Sam Winchester. Who were supposed to be frickin' fictional characters on a TV show!

I slowly stepped away from Sam, backing up until my back hit the wall of the dirty room and sliding down until my backside hit the floor. "There's no way… It can't actually be Sam and Dean," I commented to myself.

Dean glanced at Sam, sharing one of those looks that said everything and nothing at the same time. They seemed to come to some sort of agreement and Dean stepped away from me while Sam came closer and asked gently, "Hey, what's going on? Are you okay? Your head doesn't still hurt does it?"

At his words I remembered the tender spot on my head, noting amusedly that I had forgotten it with all the stuff that had been going on. "No, no, it's not that."

He frowned, that special concerned-Sam look I had seen so many times on my laptop scrunching up his face. "Then what?"

"Um. Well. I would say I can't tell you because you wouldn't believe me, but I know you're just going to make me tell you anyway."

"Damn right," Dean piped up from his spot in the corner.

Sam shot him a look before turning back to me and smiling reassuringly. "It's okay, we've heard a lot of weird things over the years."

I giggled at that. "I know." I immediately regretted saying it. If there was anything that would tip them off to something weird going on, it was those words. I wanted to be able to explain to them why I knew so much before I told them exactly how much I knew. _Damn head, it's messing with my judgment_. _Hell, these boys are messing with my judgment!_

Sam's brow furrowed and that wariness appeared in his eyes again as he asked, "What do you mean by that?"

I could see Dean straighten a little behind him, his hand twitching near his gun. I started to explain quickly. "I mean that I know a lot about what you guys do because where I come from you're the main characters in a TV show called Supernatural. It's pretty popular, and I was watching a marathon round when I came home from work one day and—" I cut off, finally remembering that silky smooth voice. _"Hey, girly."_

Dean waited impatiently for about three seconds before growling, "'and' what?"

I glared at him. "Do you always have to be such an ass?"

He blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a dying fish before asking curiously. "'Always'"?

"Remember, you called yourself a dick. If that's not saying something, I don't know what is."

Defensive, he complained, "Hey, that was me in the future! I'm a different man!" Sam was laughing, his head thrown back to show all of his perfect white teeth. Dean did not appreciate his little brother laughing at his expense. "Sam, this is not funny!"

Sam paused, getting his laughter under control enough to say "Isn't it? She got you riled up pretty easily."

"No, it's not!" Dean looked lost for a moment before seeming to realize something. "Wait a minute, how the hell did you know about that? I was alone with myself at the time!"

I rolled my eyes. "You don't listen at all, do you? I said there's a TV show that focuses on you. I know basically everything. Though I haven't watched it in a long time. That's why I was re-watching them from season one; I don't remember much."

Sam and Dean both looked at me for a good minute, trying to process this. I took the chance to look around at the room. There was the wooden support I had been tied to in the center of the room. Around it were crumpled yellow pieces of paper and a dried puddle of…something. _Damn, that's blood, isn't it? What the hell happened in this place?_

Dean spoke up again, breaking the silence. "Prove it."

"I know about the "dick" comment you made about yourself! Isn't that enough?"

"No."

"Bastard." I saw the corner of Sam's mouth twitch up.

Dean crossed his arms. "How about we ask you some questions and you answer them?"

"That is exactly the cliché answer I expected." At his raised eyebrow, I sighed. "Okay. What do you want me to answer?"

"How did our dad die?"

I started. It was such a heavy question to pose as the first challenge. Guess he was really serious about this. "He, uh, he made a deal with the yellow-eyed demon to save your life. You were going to die after the car accident, so…" I trailed off, remembering the episode.

Sam asked the next question. "How did Mom and Jess die?"

"They were stuck to the ceiling and then burned. That was the work of the yellow-eyed demon, too. That was " A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed to remove it.

Dean thought for a moment before asking the next question. "How did I get out of Hell?"

"Cas. Cas got you out."

Both of the boys blinked. "You know about Cas?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Yeah, of course. He's amazing, but I feel bad for him a lot of the time." I glared at Dean, admittedly a little pleased to see him falter a step back. "I think you got better later, but you used to order him around so much. He's not your pet angel, got it? You told him what to do all the time and never told him thank you. I repeat, do you always have to be such an ass?"

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before starting to ask questions rapid-fire, barely giving me time to answer.

"How to check for a demon?"

"Splash some holy water on them."

"A vampire's weakness?"

"Dead man's blood."

"Sam's birthday?"

"May 2nd, 1983."

"My birthday?"

"January 24th, 1979."

"What else?"

"What do you mean 'What else'? That's not enough?" He crossed his arms and didn't say a word so I sighed and started listing things off the top of my head. "You hate to fly, Sam moved a cabinet with psychic powers when he had a vision of you dying, you've been to purgatory and back, you were killed many times on various Tuesdays by Gabriel, you always choose scissors in Rock, Paper, Scissors, and, umm…" I stopped speaking to think, but when I looked at each of them they were staring at me in shock.

Sam finally spoke after a drawn-out silence. "So it's true, then."

"Well, yeah, that's what I've been trying to say."

Dean shook his head. "This is too crazy."

I rubbed my arms, suddenly chilled. "You don't have to tell me that. I've always known you as TV characters and now I'm actually talking with you."

Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair. "What's your name? You knew us almost immediately, but you never said who you were."

I shot a quick glare to Dean. "That's because your brother never gave me the chance."

"I said I was sorry! What more do you want?"

"How about some time to simmer!"

Sam interrupted. "Hey! Your name?"

I looked to him, remembering. "Oh, right. It's Serenity, but most people just call me Ren." At seeing Dean's mouth open, I stuck out a finger at him and narrowed my eyes. "One comment about it sounding like a guys name and I kick your ass, got it?"

"I'd like to see you try."

"Fine. Let's go."

Sam got between us, mediating the situation. "Guys, we really don't have time for this! It's nearly midnight so we only have a few more minutes until—"

A loud screech and the deafening sound of a fist banging on a metal door cut off the rest of what he was going to say. I looked over to see both of the boys staring at the closed iron door, guns drawn. "What did you say was going to happen when it got to midnight, Sammy?" Dean asked quietly.

"I said all of the ghosts that are stuck here would come out…to play."

"Awesome."

Sam looked behind him and must have noticed my I'm-in-over-the-top-of-my-head-and-I-know-it look because he gestured for me to come closer. "We won't let anything happen to you, Serenity, don't worry. Just stick close, okay?"

I smiled nervously, stepping close to him and closing my hand around his shirtsleeve. "Oh, trust me, you won't have to worry about that."

I felt him chuckle and calmed a little. I had to admit, being in a disturbing house was terrifying, but having the guys with me made it quite a bit better. They knew what they were doing; they had dealt with tons of situations like this and worse. The most important question now was what exactly _are_ we dealing with?

Dean moved to the door, closing his hand on door handle and looking to Sam. Sam nodded, and Dean turned the handle, pushing the door open with a fear-inspiring groan of disuse. He must've not seen anything out there to be worried about because he gestured for us to follow him out into the hall.

I stayed very close to Sam's back as we moved down the dark hallway, my hand still in a death grip around the back of his shirt. To distract myself from the suspenseful second right before Dean pushed open another door to check, I started talking. "So, Dean?"

"Yeah, what?" He answered distractedly, moving on down the hall of doors.

"The first time I met you, you said something about a door closing on you. It wasn't me, so what do you think did it? A ghost?"

"That would make the most sense," Sam said. "This used to be a hospital back in the 70s before it was burned down in a fire. The circumstances behind the fire were shady at best and since then there have been five disappearances here. Most likely the fire was to cover something up."

"Wait, so…" I paused, flashing back to the stain of blood around the wooden support beam. "You think someone was killed here?"

Dean spoke. "Yeah, that would by why their ghost is still hanging around."

"I can't even imagine..." I felt a deep-seated sadness well over me and suddenly my body was too heavy to keep standing. I dropped like a rock onto my knees, head dropping close to my chest. It was too much effort to lift so I stopped trying.

Sam was next to me, calling, asking if I was okay. A dull throb started at the base of my skull and worked it's way up lazily, starting a ringing in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut and images began flashing: a little girl in a white gown, a puddle of blood, and a lifeless woman tied to a beam with a man standing over her. _What do these mean? I don't understand. _The images receded with the pain and I started to hear Sam and Dean. They were arguing about something, but I was too tired to care.

So, for the third time that day, I blacked out.

I groaned my way back into the waking world, feeling a solid wall behind my back before registering that I was sitting. I felt a hand on my leg and the voice that accompanied it. "Hey, you all right?" I opened my ten-pound eyelids to come face-to-face with the anxious eyes of Dean.

I blame the fact that I was still out of it for what I said next.

"God, you're pretty."

His face immediately closed up, the anxiety erasing like it was never there. "She's fine, Sam. Let's go."

Sam was sitting in a miraculously intact chair against the left wall. _Looks like we're in another one of the rooms._ He stood up at Dean's words, stopping him before he got to the open door. "Com'on, Dean. Let her rest for a little longer. You're probably the cause of this anyway."

"Sam, we're here to find this ghost! Not babysit!"

_Jackass. I'm eighteen years old! _I huffed to myself.

"And we will find it, but it's not exactly going anywhere, right?" Sam countered.

Dean agreed reluctantly and leaned against the doorframe to keep watch. Sam brought his chair over to me and sat in it backwards, folding his arms over the back. "What happened?"

I shook my head, trying to sort it out. "I don't know. I just couldn't keep standing. My body was so heavy… And I saw things. A, a little girl, a dead woman, and a man." I looked up at him, allowing some fear to leak into my voice. "Sam, I think that man killed her. I think he killed the woman for her daughter."

"Bullshit." That was Dean, listening in. "Just because your brain got hit around and you're seeing funny pictures doesn't mean they have anything to do with anything."

Sam was watching me thoughtfully. "No, wait Dean. Remember, I used to get visions? Let's take it seriously. What can it hurt?"

"What's gotten into you, Sam? Why do you suddenly favor this chick so much?" Dean complained, sounding a little betrayed.

"I don't favor this girl, I just… I don't think she knows any more about what's going on than we do, and she doesn't seem like the type to make things up like this."

"What, so now you know her type? We just met her!"

"Exactly, Dean!" Sam yelled, exasperated. "Which is why I'm curious why you want to distrust her so quickly! You know, ever since you were gone that night a couple days ago you've been acting weird! Maybe I should be asking what's gotten into _you_!"

Dean's voice took on the quality of ice. "And I told you that's none of your goddamn business. It was a personal thing."

"What, so you don't even trust your own brother anymore?"

"Hey!" I shouted. I didn't like seeing the boys fight; I always cringed at those moments in the show. They both turned quickly to look at me, seeming to remember that I was there.

Sam ran his hand through his hair again, sighing. "Okay, we gotta find this ghost. But we're not done talking about this," he warned Dean. Reaching down, he held out a hand to help me up. I took it and stood, smiling gratefully and mouthing a 'thank you'. He nodded.

Dean pushed away from the doorframe and stepped into the hallway, followed closely by Sam. I took one more look around, shivered at the sudden cold, and took a step towards the door to join them just as it slammed shut.

"Serenity!"

"Hey!"

I banged on the door, calling frantically. "Sam! Dean! Get me out!"

I heard Dean on the other side, only gently muffled by the thick door. "Just stand back, okay? I'll try to kick it down!"

I stepped away and heard a loud crash as the door shook but didn't open. I spun, the hair prickling up on the back of my neck alerting me to the ghost behind me; her throat was mangled, her clothes were crimson with blood, her face was half rotted off and there were chunks of her arms that were hanging loose.

I stumbled away from her, back towards the closed door. "You're…you're that woman. From my mind." She was just standing there, staring at me. The sounds of Dean and Sam swearing registered in the back of my brain, but for some reason all of my focus was on her. "I'm sorry about your daughter. It was a monstrous thing to do, separating a mother from her child all for the sake of science. And the way you were killed… I'm so sorry."

A single tear fell down my right cheek and the woman reached out, appearing directly in front of me in the blink of an eye and catching the tear on her index finger. A light shone from that spot, forcing me to cover my eyes. When I opened them again, she was gone.

The door slammed open with a loud bang against the wall, and both Sam and Dean rushed in guns blazing. When all they saw was me, they sighed and came over. "You need to be more careful, Serenity. You could've been killed." Dean scolded.

I rolled my eyes at him, crossing my arms. "Because it was completely my fault that a ghost shut the damn door on me and separated us."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "You saw a ghost?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "It was the ghost of the woman."

"Did she hurt you?" Sam asked quickly.

I laughed. "No, not at all. I think she's just looking for her daughter."

"You still hanging onto that vision crap?" Dean scoffed.

"Look, jackass, it was the same woman I saw in my head, wounds and all. So how about you stop treating me like an idiot and start listening to me?" My hand closed into a fist at my side as I tried to keep my anger in check.

"When you do something to make me start listening, I will."

I couldn't take it any more. I snapped. "God damn it, Dean! I'm not fucking lying to you, okay? Hell, I know more about your world than I do mine! I heard you confess to Sam about what happened in Hell, watched as Castiel succumbed to the Leviathans, suffered as I saw you both _die_! Now I'm suddenly dropped into this God-forsaken world where ghosts are real and haunted houses are actually haunted! I've been trying so _damn_ hard not to freak out with all that's happened and all you ever do is treat me like a fucking _child_! You know what, I can't take it anymore!" I ended my rant on a scream of frustration. I never realized dealing with Dean could be so _infuriating_!

The brother's eyes seemed to be frozen wide. That was when I noticed that the broken things around me were hovering at my shoulder, shaking. As my anger faded to be replaced with confusion, the objects stopped trembling and dropped to the floor.

There was a long, awkward silence before Sam croaked, "Yeah, she's definitely psychic."

_What the…? Me? Psychic?_

Dean cleared his throat and agreed. "Oh yeah."

"What the hell are you guys talking about? I'm not psychic."

"Serenity, you just got upset and things started to levitate. There's no way that's a coincidence." Sam's words were slow and overly calm; my outburst had probably scared him a little.

I sighed. I had always told myself that if something like this ever happened I wouldn't question it because I've read and watched so much shit. "Alright. So I'm psychic. Question is, can I use it at will?" Focusing my eyes on a small section of wood, I chanted to myself 'Rise…rise…rise!'

Sam and Dean shared a meaningful – and amused – look between each other as the small wood sliver didn't so much as twitch.

Dean chuckled. "That went well."

I raised a hand to point at him in warning. "Don't fucking mess with me right now, Dean Winchester. I'm still pissed at you."


End file.
